Maynard Park Takes a Gamble on Parking

On a warm summer night this past August, Seattle’s Maynard Park Neighborhood Community Council quietly passed an innovative fund-raising scheme. Maynard Park has been challenged with steadily declining parking meter revenues, due to the lack of compelling reasons for people to visit the neighborhood.

In a moment of inspired brilliance, council member Preston Camelot gave a compassioned soliloquy. “Why do people park?” he proffered. “People park because they want to go someplace nearby. But, what if there’s no place for them to go? Why should they park? People need a reason to park. If they don’t have a reason to park, then parking needs to be their reason.”

The rest of the Council remained perplexed, until Preston revealed a flipchart illustration of his vision for Maynard Park parking. Calling it the “Maynard Parking Slot”, Preston showed how a standard parking pay station could be easily fitted with a video slot terminal, money-changer, flashing lights and a series of buttons marked 25-cent, 45-cent, 75-cent, Max Bet and Spin. Maynard Parkers simply insert their coins or credit-card into the machine, select their requested parking duration and then optionally add a side-bet for as many reel spins as they desire. As Preston put it, “With this level of excitement and thrill, people will be lining up to park in Maynard Park…and look how much money we save by not improving the neighborhood at all.”

The “Maynard Parking Slots” are being trialed this month on several of Maynard Park’s main thoroughfares. Additional Parking Enforcement Officers have been added to deal with the occasional “hand pays” of Jackpots and larger wins. But, just as in standard Casinos, the “house” or in this case the “neighborhood” always wins, thanks to a 75% payout guaranteeing Maynard Park a steady stream of revenue.

The next time you have no place to go, why not pay a visit to Maynard Park? And may the odds be ever in your favor.

 

Make it a Maynard Park Weekend!

It seems like something’s always happening in Seattle’s Maynard Park neighborhood. This weekend, there are more events, festivals and “happenings” happening in Maynard Park than in all the combined previous Maynard Park weekends this year. 

Here’s this weekend's rundown:

· Backward-walking 7K Fun Run
· A Brief History of Thyme (7-part lecture panel over 3 days with cooking demonstration)
· Street Magic Flash Mob & Flash Dance (what a feeling of suspended disbelief)
· Making Termites Your Friends (drift-wood art created by domesticated wood eaters)
· Celebrity Miniature Golf Tournament (benefit to buy dry-erasers for the community center)
· Maynard Park hand-decorated shrimp festival (self-explanatory and delicious)
· Collectibles on Parade (treasured uncommon items marched by locals in procession)
· The 5th Annual Maynard Park Vintage Chrysler LeBaron Car Show
· Maynard Park’s Got Talent? (let’s all find out…followed by a no-host Pancake Dinner)

With all this going on, who says Maynard Park isn’t a real neighborhood?

It's Maynard Bay Music Festival Time!

Beat the heat this weekend at the Maynard Bay Music Festival.  Established by musician and Maynard Park music promoter, Clive Madison, this little-known Seattle festival celebrates its 3rd non-consecutive year in existence.

Setup in the large back parking lot of the Maynard Park Hardware Emporium, this outdoor venue consists of a small plywood stage fronted by a deluxe child’s wading pool that serves as Maynard Bay. Says Clive, “We wait for the sun to set, then we light all these floating tea lights in the pool, and it’s magic.”

This year, as in previous years, the headline act is Clive’s own band, Flugel Riot Anthem. “We’re a Flugelhorn Power Trio of myself, my brother and our cousin Lloyd. In-between sets, we have a Fire Dancer who’s pretty good. And we have hot-dogs.” Flugel Riot Anthem performs what they have come to call “FRA music” which they describe as a fusion of several other fusions.  

If Seattle’s heat-wave is getting to you this weekend, and you could find some relief standing in a parking lot, you might want to check out the Maynard Bay Music Festival.

Review: New Seafood Restaurant is Making Waves in Maynard Park

Just in time for Seafair, a new themed restaurant has opened its “galley doors” to the more adventurous diners among us. The Maynard Park Squall Café combines the thrill and unpredictability of rough seas with a fun family-dining experience.

The adventure begins before you’re even inside the restaurant, as guests “walk the plank” that leads frighteningly (but safely) up to the main entrance. Netting on all sides prevents serious peril for anyone who might feel off-balance negotiating the narrow and suspended wooden walkway.

Once aboard the Squall Café, you’re greeted by your Captain/Host who shows you to your ship (table) and introduces you to the “First Mate” who will be taking care of you during your mock journey on the culinary high seas. When seated comfortably and perusing the abundant menu, new guests to the Café often joke and question what “thrill” could be had dining in what appears to be a miniaturized replica of an old Spanish Galleon, complete with mast and “privacy sails” that shield your view of other diners in their respective “ships.” 

 Orders are taken, just like any other restaurant, but then things start to get interesting.

“Ahoy Mates,” announces the server as he or she brings the first course of appetizers and beverages. “The Captain says we’re going to be encountering some cross-winds, and suggests we have you buckle up…for your own safety.” 

Guests find what appear to be seat-belts on either side of them, and the First Mate helps get everyone in the dining party strapped in. Beverage glasses and plates are placed in special form-fitting grooves that hold everything on the table neatly in place, and once all is secured, guests begin to feel a gentle rocking and mild swaying. Soon, the main entrees are brought and similarly secured by the First Mate, who then makes a rather ominous statement.

“The Captain says we’re heading straight ahead into a tropical storm, and suggests you take all necessary precautions.” And this is when the fun really begins. 

Built on a series of individualized motion-simulator dining platforms, guests to the Maynard Park Squall Café can enjoy everything from the standard “Gentle Breeze Dining Experience” to the “Andrea Doria Experience” that has rain slicker bedecked guests literally holding onto their food to prevent it from rolling onto the floor. For the less adventurous or those prone to mild or severe motion-sickness, stationary dining areas are also provided. 

Whether you want to recreate the romance of dining in the Hawaiian Isles, or if you just want to punk your friends with an extreme dining experience they’ll never forget, the Maynard Park Squall Café is your place for the quintessential Seattle Seafair dining experience.

Restoring Unnatural Resources in Maynard Park

Living in the Pacific Northwest, we’re surrounded by the awe-inspiring beauty of the natural world. Just as inspiring as nature itself is the dedication of those who devote countless hours to pursuits such as restoring salmon runs, preserving forest lands and sustaining urban Green initiatives.

What about our unnatural resources? 

Meet Charles (“Corny”) Cornweather. We were lucky enough to be granted an Exclusive Interview with the Maynard Park man who has dedicated his life to restoring soda streams.

MPNB: First of all, thank you for taking the time to share your story with us.
CC: I appreciate your interest, and your giving me a soap-box to stand on.

MPNB: How did you come to be involved in what you’re calling soda stream restoration?
CC: Well, first off…something you should know about me is that I love Sprite. Sprite is my drink. I don’t care for 7-Up. If there’s not a Sprite available, then I can make do with 7-Up. But, Sierra Mist? No way. I don’t even understand Sierra Mist. So, anyway…I generally, practically always drink Sprite. Over the years, I think I became a bit of a Sprite aficionado. I knew how it should taste. At least I thought I knew how it should taste, until about 4 years ago when they remodeled this particular Maynard Park fast-food establishment. They practically brought the place down to the studs. It was an extensive and extreme remodel, replacing everything, like the grills, the fry machines, all the fixtures and tiles, and even the drive-thru window…everything. It took months.

MPNB: And when they reopened?
CC: When the place opened back up for business, it was all shiny new…no grime, everything polished and clean and sparkly. Without thinking, I went up and ordered some things, and of course I ordered a Sprite. I carried it back to my table, sat down, had a couple fries, and then I took a sip of the Sprite. Oh my god, it was like drinking from pristine waters from a glacier. Pure, absolutely pure. For a moment, just a moment, I cried to myself.

MPNB: So you tasted the purest Sprite you’ve ever had?
CC: From a fountain. A can is different in its own way, but not as natural as one that comes from the free flow of water. Sprite in a plastic bottle is better…it doesn’t have that can taste. But, the best Sprite by far is from a Corny Cornweather certified fountain-drink purveyor, like that place that started it all, with their fresh soda tubes and pipes, and I suspect too that they had upgraded some of the soda fountain technology, because you weren’t getting that orange soda backwash…you know, like when the previous customer orders orange soda, and then you order a Sprite, and then it has this essence of Fanta or whatever that orange drink is.

MPNB: How did this go from a simple observation to a mission?
CC: That day made a big impact on me. It was life changing. Days later, I went to another neighborhood place that had Sprite on tap, and I ordered it and sipped it, and could barely swallow it. It wasn’t bad Sprite. It just wasn’t pure like a sugary mountain stream. So, I talked about it with the manager of that place, and at first he didn’t seem to care, but I think some others overheard me because someone else also said their Sprite tasted a little off, so the manager agreed to replace the equipment. Then I thought…hey, I’m onto something.

MPNB: And you carried your mission to the rest of Maynard Park?
CC: To Maynard Park, and all points nearby… First to the Queen Anne Hill neighborhood, because they love Sprite up there too…and they have the more sophisticated palates that can appreciate the various notes of a well-made beverage. Not everyone has been receptive though. In some other places, I get “the look” and I know I can’t change anything there, and I put those places on my Lifetime Moratorium list, but I also revisit the list every year just in case they have new management. My goal is to change the taste and essence of Sprite for the entire city of Seattle, one place at a time, but that’s still a lot of hoses.

MPNB: It sounds like this has evolved into quite an extensive program you’re running. Why has no one heard of you or acknowledged what you’re doing for the city of Seattle before now?
CC: I’m not looking for recognition. I don’t mind being unsung. All I would ask is that when people are out there, enjoying a snack or a meal, and ordering a Sprite…to just take a moment, and if the Sprite beverage is oh so pure, crystal clean, sweet and thirst-quenchingly delicious…just think to themselves, I bet Corny’s been here. 

Hanging Out with J.P. Patches at the City Dump...it really did happen!

The Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog breaks with format today (the format being made-up stories about a Seattle neighborhood that exists only in my imagination) to share some thoughts and memories at the passing of J.P. Patches (Chris Wedes.)

Anyone in the Seattle area who grew up with J.P. Patches on television or had the privilege of meeting him at any of his many appearances can speak at length to the impact he had on their life.  For those of us lucky enough to have been children during the years when he was on KIRO television twice-a-day, he was there in the morning to help us get up, face the day and head off to school, and he was there again when we came home, waiting to ask how we were, and to make us laugh.  It's almost impossible today to envision a personality who could so genuinely transcend the medium of television to become a trusted member of the family.  But, he did it, with a deep kindness that inspired so many.

As a kid who had a serious health problem requiring a lengthy stay at Seattle's Children's Hospital, many, many years ago, I still remember the excitement that anticipated a planned visit by J.P. Patches.  At that time, J.P. had only been on Seattle television for about 6 years, but he was already the most important star any of us kids could imagine meeting.  For those of us there, it was an obviously challenging time.  But, knowing that our friend J.P. would be coming to see us, it was all we could think about, and it was just what we needed.  As it turned out, I left Children's Hospital the day before J.P. arrived, but I had a second chance to meet him a little later in life.

While writing for a Seattle-area Community College newspaper, I was assigned a "human interest" story of my choosing.  I knew immediately that I'd use my community college journalist "credentials" as my ticket to interview J.P. Patches.  I arranged to interview J.P. at the KIRO studios during his morning broadcast.  I brought along my notepad and a portable cassette tape recorder.  I remember walking through the KIRO TV lobby and seeing all of the portraits of the News Team and other station personalities, and I was escorted back to a room just outside of where J.P. was on-the-air performing his live show.  I was getting a little nervous, wondering just what I had gotten myself into, and then at the first commercial break, in walked J.P.  I think I was a little afraid that my childhood vision of J.P. Patches might be shattered.  After all, I was there to interview him, not ask for his autograph or tell him how I missed seeing him years ago at Children's Hospital, or tell him how much he meant to me in my life.  I remember thinking, what if he's just some guy who does this kids show, and the character of J.P. is just this artificial invention.  When he introduced himself and shook my hand, he was just as genuine, kind and engaged as he was on television.  As he sat down to talk with me, I knew he was the real thing, and I was tremendously relieved.  I asked him questions about how he got his start in television, and he talked about his time in Minneapolis and some of the characters he did there, like "Chuckwagon Chuck", and then it was time for him to go back on the air.  He let me stay around for the whole show, and we talked more during the cartoons and commercials, and then he showed me around the rest of the studio, and I saw the set where they did the News and I got to see the cameras and talk to some of the technicians and other staff.  I felt so comfortable and was made to feel so welcomed.

Something that impressed me so much in my time wandering around behind-the-scenes of the KIRO studio with J.P., was just how much he loved his job and the people he worked with there.  In one conversation, one of the camera operators mentioned how the CBS Network had recently and significantly improved the audio quality range of their live broadcasts and how on the daytime soaps you could now hear the camera cables snap over the air when the big cameras were moved around and positioned.  J.P. was excited to hear about it, and I could tell from just that little glimpse how much he loved being in broadcasting, having seen all of the technical developments from the early days of television.  I remember the energy of it being "live television", and I could see that J.P. was completely in his element and so much enjoying the fun, creativity and challenge of putting together his show as it was beamed out to the masses throughout the Seattle region.

I last saw J.P. in person last year at the Fisherman's Festival, and he was just as I had remembered.  I know from being in that crowd that day, and from hearing so many stories over the years, and from the outpouring of his many Patches Pals over the last 24 hours, that the experience I had of J.P. Patches and the man, Mr. Chris Wedes, is multiplied by so many thousands, likely hundreds of thousands whose lives were forever enriched by a kind, funny, creative and gentle man who none of us will ever forget.

--by David La France

A Zombie Uprising in Maynard Park?

Special to the Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog [by an Anonymous Postal worker]

I’ve seen a few strange things at times walking my Postal route through Seattle’s Maynard Park, but I’ve never encountered anything like I experienced today.

As I walked North on West Maynard Park Boulevard, I saw this guy creeping along the sidewalk ahead of me. He had a grayish ashen complexion. His arms flailed out in front of him like he was trying to catch fireflies, and he dragged one of his legs behind him as he slowly ambled forward. His clothes looked like they had been unearthed from dirt, shredded in places and matted with grime. 

I didn’t want to pass by him, so I stopped and pretended to sort through my bag of mail. Just then, a very well-dressed woman in a nice blue blazer, with coiffed high-end hair and pearls (a Real Estate Agent), approached the guy, and I half expected that he might lunge at her. But, instead his gaze fixed on her as the two made eye contact, and they appeared to be having a conversation.

This seemed like the right time for me to make my move, walk past them and then continue on my route. So, I started walking again, getting closer to the lady Real Estate agent and her sketchy companion. They had both turned their backs as I approached, with a couple of feet of sidewalk for me to slide by, hopefully unnoticed. 

I was able to pass by and I went about half a block more before I turned to look back. When I turned around, they were both staring back at me, almost sizing me up in some way. I turned back around and kept moving, and then I quickly glanced back to see that the stumbling one had begun heading towards me. I turned and picked up my pace, almost running now. Then suddenly, the woman grabbed the guy’s shoulder, pulled him back and leaned in to whisper something to him. He stopped and sat down at a nearby bench.

The woman stepped away, reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. She held it up in front of her, gesturing with it in my direction, and she said, “Sir, sir…I have a letter I need to mail”, and she was heading towards me, her heels click, click, clicking on the sidewalk.

Something didn't seem right, so I just ran, and by policy I can't accept loose mail not deposited in a proper mail-drop location. So, I ran as fast as I could until the clicking seemed to stop, and then I went into the Maynard Park Bait and Tackle Shop. I stood behind a canoe, keeping still and quiet, and listening, for anything. After a few moments, the woman and her heels clicked louder then stopped just outside the store’s front window. I stayed there for another couple of minutes, staying hidden but with a clear view of the store window. 

I looked down at my watch, and when I looked back up, the stumbling guy had joined the Real Estate lady again and the two now stood, with their backs to me, surveilling the distance. I had to get out of there and get back on my mail route, so I snuck up closer to the door, and that’s when I heard the woman say to the guy, “You’re going to need someone like me to help you get close to the people you want. And in a strange way, I think we’re good for each other.” And then the gray one leaned in and said very quietly, “Brains…”

I ran out of the shop and down the street…

No more mail was delivered today, on this Friday the 13th in Maynard Park.